Light The Fire || Stilinski || Book Two

Six

SOON, Stiles and Sierra stood next to a hospital bed, where a girl with dark long hair laid in a patterned gown, an IV in her arm. Melissa was near the door, making sure no one would come in and interrupt. "We weren't doing anything that bad," Caitlin told them honestly, twiddling with her fingers in her lap. "I mean, I've camped out there plenty of times."

"What was so special about tonight?" Sierra asked her gently, so she wouldn't get upset.

Caitlin didn't look at either of them, but replied, "We wanted to be alone for one night. Emily lives with her mom, and I have three roommates." She mumbled the last part under her breath, "It's not exactly romantic settings."

Stiles lowered his hand that had been holding his mouth and asked the next question. "How long have you two been together?"

"Three months," Caitlin answered and smiled softly after the boy said she wanted to make the night romantic. "Yeah, you know, because um..."

"It was her first time," Sierra finished for her quietly. Caitlin nodded slowly and for the first time, looked at the people questioning her.

"They're going to find her, right?" she asked them desperately, her dark eyes sparkling from her tears. "Aren't they?"

Neither of the teenagers replied for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing. They both knew that the chances of finding Emily alive were slim, but they couldn't destroy the woman's hopes. Luckily, Melissa stepped in and assured Caitlin the police were doing their best before excusing themselves into the hallway.

The sun had risen by the time Scott arrived at the hospital to hear his best friends' theory. They were back in the morgue, and Stiles swallowed as he recovered Heather's head after showing Scott her wounds. He stepped back, right next to Sierra, and wrapped one arm around her to keep her close to his side. He closed his eyes while he pressed his lips to her temple and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Scott watched the interaction sadly, before slowly asking that since Heather and the boy were strangled and had their heads hit in the back, Boyd and Cora hadn't killed anyone at all. "You're going to wish they did," Sierra replied, her voice raspy and dry from a lack of sleep.

"Why?"

"We're not exactly sure yet," Stiles told him, licking his lips with a sigh. "But the other girl who was out in the woods, Emily? Eventually they're going to find her; she's one of them."

"Emily, Heather, the guy Lydia found at the pool," Sierra continued, lifting her head from Stiles' shoulder. "All three were virgins. And they're all going to have the same three injuries; strangled, throat slashed, head bashed in." She paused, her breath hitching. "It's called the three-fold death."

"So if these aren't random killings," Scott caught on to their thinking, "what are they?"

A moment passed before a word fell from Stiles' mouth that made Scott even more puzzled than he was before. "Sacrifices," Stiles revealed. "Human sacrifices."

Scott held Stiles back after they all decided it was best to call it a night, claiming he needed to talk to him about something important. "What's up?" Stiles questioned him with his hands in his pockets, glancing back at Sierra who was entering the elevator. "I don't want her to wait on me long."

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry about Heather," Scott decided to say first. "I know how much she meant to you."

Stiles nodded solemnly, but gratefully replied, "Thanks, Scott. It truly means a lot."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm not sure," Stiles told him honestly. "But having Sierra with me definitely helps."